On a winter afternoon
by nishanightray
Summary: His trembling lips moved silently, chanting some old, kind, Japanese poem about winter. / AmeriPan, nowadays setting.


**Pairing:** America/Japan

**Disclaimer:** Axis Power Hetalia and its characters belong to Hidekaz Hidemura. I only own this story!

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_**On a winter afternoon**_

His trembling lips moved silently, chanting some old, kind, Japanese poem about winter.

Kiku did that, right and then, to relax, but only when he thought nobody was paying attention at him; so Alfred was pretty sure he hadn't notice that he had been observing him for a while now. Kiku's eyes were closed shut, long and wet eyelashes caressed frozen cheeks, and his voice resounded clear and intense in the garden. Snow was still falling down, slowly. Alfred believed that Kiku's house was at its best in Spring and Summer, after all, when the small river in the middle of the garden flew under the bridge and filled up the fountains and flowers bloomed and everything was colored with light and warmness. But, in that moment, they were sitting on the balcony of Kiku's house, and the garden was only fully white because of the snow that had fell during the night, flake after flake. Kiku was lost in thoughts as he just gazed at the grey sky. Alfred knew that, even after being with him for so long, it was complicated to just guess what Kiku's inner turmoil was about. Kiku's mind never stopped to be a new, unknown world to him. In the first place, he was never good at reading people or moods, and he wasn't made for subtlety, so rather than searching for some hints, then, he choose to ask directly.

"Kiku," He called, childishly, "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing in particular…" Kiku shook his head. He was smiling, but it was a distant, small smile. He was still avoiding his eyes. Alfred's look wandered on the way Kiku's hands were interlaced on his lap: his fingers were longer and thinner and much more feminine than his and, although his skin was paler, little white scars was clearly visible in the light. When he sighed, a small cloud of white breathe came out from his mouth. His lips were still shaking, blue from being cold, and Alfred felt the irresistible urge to kiss him… So he did: he moved quickly towards him and pressed their lips together. Kiku jumped, his hands slipped out of his grip and pushed him away, gently. Alfred pouted as he attempted to bring him back into his arms. "Kiku, do you perhaps think this is wrong?" he snapped.

Kiku was slightly surprised. "Wrong…" he repeated softly, as though he was savoring the word, then fell silent. He looked away again and fixed his eyes on the wooden floor. As minutes passed and the answer didn't come, Alfred found himself starting to regret asking so directly. He hated the feeling of anxiousness: he told himself that a hero should have never felt so afraid or nervous about something. But it was too late to take words back; Kiku was already reflecting upon it: he wasn't the type to let go even of small questions and that was a big one. He could be pretty stubborn, too, so Alfred waited and sucked air in and nibbled the inside of his cheeks.

"I think," The brunet finally said, after what seemed like an eternity, "I think it's very wrong, on so many levels. We're both Nations, and both males on top of that…" Alfred's breathe was suddenly very quiet and short, all his excitement had died: his shock and aversion must have showed on his face, because Kiku suddenly looked apologetic.

"I'm sorry," he said, in fact, "I can't help but thinking that. I'm probably just pessimist by nature, but I think this is so wrong that it's already beyond hope, and what is worst, knowing that it's wrong doesn't change the fact that I'd still want to do this with you…" Alfred felt immediately relieved at his words, but Kiku didn't notice and didn't leave him time to speak as he continued to apologize. "I'm sorry that I can't say that it's not wrong… I'm sorry-" Alfred muffled his voice by pressing their cold lips together, again.

"I don't even see why you're apologizing! You can't change who you are, and I like you just as you are," He said, distancing himself a little bit, but still holding him tight to prevent him from running away, "You know, pessimistic and winter poems and all," He added. His blue eyes lightened up and a grin appeared on his face when blood rushed to Kiku's cheeks, coloring them of a deep shade of red.

"Were you listening?" he choked. Alfred grinned even more and Kiku started squirming in his grip, trying to cover his face, but the American definitely wouldn't let him; on the contrary, his grip tightened as he pushed the other backwards, until he was lying on the floor. "America-san, please refrain to do such things, it's so embarrassing!" Kiku lamented, his cheeks as red as a tomato. On top of him, America laughed and placed a kiss on his forehead.

"I think I'm going to embarrass you even more," he said, and kissed him softly on the lips.

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n/A: Helloooo. There's no specific context, the story is set nowadays in a winter afternoon like many others... Truth is, I'm so in love with this pairing, I just wanted to write something cute and fluffy, really. I love them being lovey-dovey /squeals/

I hope that you liked it ;)

kisses,

nisha.


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